


The Tales We tell

by HomeForImaginaryFriends



Series: Bokuroo Week 2017 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Zombies, BoKuroo Week, BoKuroo Week 2017, Fluff, M/M, Mild Gore, Slight Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:06:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10533285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomeForImaginaryFriends/pseuds/HomeForImaginaryFriends
Summary: Kuroo and Bokuto have always had inside jokes between them but there's one that started their friendship and it's seen them through good times and bad.And it's seen them through zombies too.(Written for Bokuroo Week 2017: Inside Jokes)





	

Bokuroo Week Prompt 2

April 2nd: Inside Jokes

 

When Kuroo was 15 years old he went to his first Fukurodani Group training camp.  Kuroo wasn’t all that nervous, it was only a couple months into his first year and he was nothing but a bench warmer.  Kuroo knew he wouldn’t be doing much during the actual practice matches against the other teams, but he was nearly vibrating with excitement at the thought of extra practice where groups broke off and it didn’t matter if he was a first year nobody.

 

The hard part was finding other people to practice with.  There was a libero in Kuroo’s year but the upperclassmen claimed him rather quickly, everyone could always use a libero.  Kai was a first year bench warmer like Kuroo, he always seemed to be calm and collected no matter the chaos around him.  Kai was an easy one to get to do some extra practice with.

 

Kuroo managed to gather a couple other first and second years that hadn’t seen much actual gameplay during the day and were itching to actually get their hands on a ball.  Kuroo felt like something was off though, they needed one more person and he waved at his small group in gym 3 before venturing outside to find their much needed last person.

 

A setter or libero would be best, Kuroo pondered, he had worked with Kenma long enough to be decent at setting in a practice situation but Kuroo really wanted to work on his blocking.  High schoolers were in a completely different league than middle schoolers, where Kuroo had been one of the tallest and easily blocked most other kids.  Now he found himself in the middle height-wise and he would need some actual skill to back up his height.  For that reason Kuroo wanted a spiker, despite the fact that a setter or libero would be more practical with their four on four game.

 

Kuroo turned around a corner of one of the gyms and spotted a lanky-looking kid that Kuroo remembered as cheering the loudest during any Fukurodani game.  It was clear the boy had hit a growth spurt recently since he looked too long, not at all a fully formed person yet.  Kuroo had always been tall, had gotten use to the height and could tell the difference between someone like him and someone who had recently only shot up to tall heights.

 

The kids hair stuck out the most, literally and figuratively.  It stuck straight up, like two pointed horns and was dyed white but the roots were black.  He was intensely focused on bouncing the ball off the wall and receiving it, his lanky limbs tripping him up more often than not.  But Kuroo could see the potential, see the power and the drive hidden in the awkward 15 year old body.

 

“Hey!  You’re from Fukurodani, right?”  Kuroo interrupted, the boy jumped and the ball bounced off the wall to hit him directly in the side of the head.  Kuroo sputtered, covering his mouth with his hand as he felt his cackling laugh bubble up in his throat.

 

“Hey hey hey!  I’m Bokuto Koutarou!”  The boy jogged over as if he hadn’t even realized he’d been hit in the head with a volleyball, and maybe he hadn’t, it must take a lot of gel to get someones hair to stick up like that.

 

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo said once he had his laughter under control.  Kenma had told him that he had a very mocking laugh, and Kuroo didn’t want to already get on someone's bad side the first day of training camp.  “We are doing some extra practice in gym 3, do you want to join in on a four on four?”  Bokuto was nearly shaking with excitement as he leaped forward, nodding his head furiously.

 

“Yeah!”  Bokuto shouted then took a step back, his cheeks a little red as he played with his fingers.  “I mean yes, please, thank you- we are going now?”  Kuroo picked up Bokuto’s stray ball and nodded, feeling a smile spread across his face at the exuberant boys attitude.  Kuroo had been watching all the other teams and knew that Bokuto was a bit of an outsider even on his own team.  His loud personality was probably a bit of a turnoff for some people, especially at a school as serious as Fukurodani was, but Kuroo liked it.  He liked being around people who were as passionate about volleyball as Kuroo was, despite the fact that it may seem uncool to put your everything into a high school club.

 

“So Bokuto,” Bokuto shot up to stand up straight, looking at Kuroo with wide eyes that seemed too large for his face.  “What’s up with the hair?”  Kuroo grinned as Bokuto started in on a story about a wise old owl and little baby Bokuto.

 

“Oh- um-” Bokuto stuttered as Kuroo cackled loudly at the end of the story.  “S-sorry.”  Bokuto seemed to deflate completely, shoulders slumping, head hung low, feet dragging.

 

“Hey hey, do you want to know how I get my hair like this?”  Kuroo elbowed the boy next to him, getting only a small nod and a glance at Kuroo’s hair, which was the result of bedhead left untamed for years.  “It started with a deal with a demon, no wait, I should say it started with accidentally summoning a demon by-”  Bokuto perked up as Kuroo continued his story.

 

It became a joke shared between the two of them over the years.  Every time someone asked them about their hair the stories got a little more wild, a bit more magical, and as they got older, sometimes the stories got a bit more crude.

 

It came to the point during their third year in high school that people learned to stop asking about their hair, the first years were warned explicitly and no matter how Bokuto pouted or Kuroo manipulated, no one asked them about their hair.  Until a new team showed up at the Fukurodani training camp, Karasuno with their unsuspecting club members were ripe for the picking because no one had thought to warn them.

 

It was sunshine Hinata Shouyou who had wonderingly asked about Bokuto’s hair, getting a groan from the rest of the lunch table and a cackling laugh from Kuroo as Bokuto leaned forward and wove a tale so fantastic it could have been a Studio Ghibli movie.  Hinata was a great audience, gasping and shouting at all the right points in the story.  After lunch Bokuto played better than he had before, which meant he was a real unstoppable monster on the court.

 

Everyone had begged Karasuno to stay quiet when Kuroo started nudging them to ask about his own gravity defying hair.  Sugawara, the blessed little imp he was, leant over his captain to ask Kuroo about his hair and that’s when Kuroo started in on a story that would give the first years, plus poor Azumane, nightmares that night.

 

“Do they do that often?”  Sawamura was asking Kai, who looked peaceful as ever.

 

“It’s a joke between the two of them,” Kai answered with a shrug meaning he didn’t care to understand it but that was fine.  It was a joke shared between Kuroo and Bokuto, something that made them think back to the first time they met.

 

Of course what goes up must come down and when Bokuto came down, he usually crashed hard.  Slipping into a dejected mode even Akaashi was having a hard time pulling him out of.  Kuroo never liked seeing Bokuto like that, he knew it had to do with deeper issues than just missing a view tosses or having a couple of his spikes blocked.  Bokuto had a mind that never calmed down, that never let him have a moment of peace and he tended to swing from ups and downs like a carnival ride.

 

Kuroo wanted to go over to Bokuto, to rub his back and press close to him but he knew they were already toeing the line of friendship in everyone else's eyes.  They had started dating at the beginning of the summer, but they had kept it between themselves.  For the most part it was pretty easy, neither had much relationship experience and Kuroo was just starting to accept the fact that he didn’t, and never would, like girls the same way he liked boys.  It was new and for the most part, rather innocent.

 

“Bokuto,” Sawamura sat down heavily beside Bokuto on the floor by the far wall as everyone broke off to either go shower or start up extra practices.  “I came in the middle of your story the other day, so tell me, what’s the story behind your hair.”  Sawamura’s smile was warm and gentle and if Kuroo wasn’t completely smitten with Bokuto, he would have kissed Sawamura.

 

“Bo, tell him about the fairies.”  Kuroo encouraged, sitting in front of the two other captains.  Sawamura stretched out his legs, giving Bokuto an encouraging smile when he looked up.  The story lacked Bokuto’s usual enthusiasm but by the end he wasn’t so slumped over.

 

“Can I ask you a favor?”  Sawamura asked, leaning towards Bokuto a little, who nodded at the crow captain.  “You know the kid with glasses on my team?  Tsukishima, he’s- well, not very motivated but he has a lot of potential.  I can’t get through to him, but I think you might.”

 

“How?”  Bokuto asked, though he was sitting up a little straighter and Kuroo wanted to hug Sawamura.

 

“My spiking skill is average at best and Tsukishima has no real problem blocking them, but if he was to come up against a top rated spiker.”  Sawamura grinned a little and the look surprisingly lacked his usual warmth.

 

“You want Bokuto to blast through his blocks?”  Kuroo asked, impressed and a little shock at Sawamura’s cunning.

 

“Tsukishima doesn’t like to look uncool.”  Sawamura shrugged and Kuroo couldn’t help but let out a cackle at that.  Kuroo knew it when he first met Sawamura, that he was a lot more cunning than his country boy appearance let on.

 

“Bokuto will power through his blocks and I’ll come in and teach him the proper way.”  Kuroo offered, looking over at Bokuto who was grinning and nodding with his usual enthusiasm.

 

“Let's do it!”  Bokuto jumped up, speeding out of the gym to go track down Tsukishima.  Kuroo put his hand on Sawamura’s shoulder, squeezing gently in thanks before jogging after Bokuto.

 

The joke continued through high school and into college.  They went to different universities, Bokuto accepting a sports scholarship to Chuo while Kuroo traveled to Kyoto University of Art and Design.  Kuroo found himself lucky because Sawamura was going to Kyoto Institute of Technology and was gracious enough to room with Kuroo, who found himself completely out of his depth.

 

Kuroo missed Tokyo, he missed Kenma and he definitely missed Bokuto.  Even during breaks when Kuroo went home to Tokyo Bokuto was busy with all things volleyball.  In the middle of Kuroo’s third year he was seriously considering dropping out and going home.  He knew it was just a momentary feeling, most people felt this way at least once but Kuroo wasn’t getting his classes and he felt disconnected from the world, lonely.  Sawamura's program of Biomolecular Engineering meant he was constantly hunched over his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he wrote or typed furiously.

 

“Hey hey hey!”  Kuroo sat out on the balcony, closing the sliding glass door behind him so he wouldn’t get yelled at by the touchy Sawamura Daichi for disturbing him.  Kuroo understood why Sawamura was on edge, one of his professors had changed Sawamura’s design plans at the last minute, plans Sawamura had spent the past 3 months perfecting to turn in a month from then for his final project.

 

“Hey Bo,” Kuroo leant against the glass door, stretching out his legs and letting his feet hang over the metal railing.

 

“You sound like shit.”  Bokuto said in his usual blunt and honest manner.  “Would a visit from your hot and loving boyfriend help?”

 

“What?”  Kuroo sat up and gripped his cellphone harder.  “Don’t mess with me Bokuto.”

 

“I’m not!  I swear, I uh- I sprained my wrist and I’m out of commission for two weeks.”  Bokuto sounded sheepish but really, it was only a surprise that Bokuto didn’t hurt himself more often with his all or nothing way of living his life.  “It’s just a sprain, really they are overreacting with the two weeks bullshit but my classes let out early on Thursday so we could have a long weekend!”

 

“Really?  You’re okay with that?”  Kuroo asked because Bokuto sounded honestly fine with not playing volleyball for two weeks, which just wasn’t like Bokuto at all.  He was the ace of Chuo, it had taken him over two long years to gain the respect of his team, to have them put their faith and belief into a guy who sometimes slipped into dejected modes.

 

“Yes!  We don’t have any scheduled matches, there’s a practice match against Waseda but- uh- you know, it’s Waseda.”  Bokuto sounded a little ashamed of saying that but Waseda hadn’t won a championship in over 50 years, hadn’t made it to finals in over 30.  “And- I- um- hold on, there- just, okay, I miss you, you know?  I hardly got to see you the last time you came back to Tokyo and-” Bokuto sighed, soft and quiet.

 

“I miss you too.”  Kuroo glanced behind him.  “We could use you here, Daichi’s about to- I’m not even sure, I’ve never seen him so stressed but you have a way of calming him down.”  Sawamura worked best when other people were panicked around him, when surrounded by chaos he thrived.  It was a weird thing, but then again he had been captain of Karasuno, a team of chaotic, panicked people.

 

“Is it just Sawamura who needs me?”  Bokuto hummed and Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at that.

 

Kuroo almost floated through the next three days until he was waiting at the train station for Bokuto.  Kuroo had been getting steadily more nervous as he watched the schedule bleed red with cancelled trains.  Kuroo had no idea what that was about, he had only seen a train cancelled maybe a handful of times in his 20 odd years of living in Tokyo so seeing the message board with over a dozen cancelled lines was odd.

 

“Is that weird?”  Sawamura asked next to him, brows pressed together as he stared up at the board.  There had been a lot of odd things in the news lately but they had their own problems to worry about.  The world was always kind of a mess so what did it matter to them?

 

“Kuroo!”  Cancelled trains and odd news were tossed out of Kuroo’s head as he was almost tackled to the ground by Bokuto.  Luckily Kuroo had a lot of experience with flying hugs in the form of 80 kilograms of Bokuto Koutarou so he caught him mid leap and only stumbled back a little before steadying them both.

 

“Are you feeling sick Bokuto?”  Sawamura asked, always the parental figure.

 

“No no, something's going around the city though, better safe than sorry.”  Bokuto tugged the white mask down beneath his chin so he could talk without being muffled.

 

“It’s a good thing you’re here then.”  Kuroo pressed his forehead against Bokuto’s temple, a small moment that made Bokuto lean towards him, smile goofily.

 

“Gross.”  Sawamura grumbled but he was smiling.  “How’s your wrist?”

 

“It’s fine- ah, ow.”  Bokuto had flung his wrapped wrist out then cringed, pulling it back close to his chest.  “Just a little sore.”

 

“I’m surprised you don’t get injured more often.”  Sawamura walked beside them as they all started the walk out of the train station and towards Kuroo and Sawamura’s apartment.

 

“What’s that suppose to mean?”  Bokuto squawked, already offended.

 

“You know exactly what I meant.”  Sawamura slung Bokuto’s duffel bag over his shoulder, waving away Bokuto’s half hearted attempts to get it back.

 

“Defend my honor.”  Bokuto demanded Kuroo.

 

“He’s kind of right Bo.”  Kuroo shrugged, already feeling lighter than he had in awhile.  Kuroo could also see the tension draining out of Sawamura’s shoulders.

 

“Betrayed by my beloved!”  Bokuto crowed.

 

“Sounds like the hookline for a romance novel.”  They all began to chip in their own cheesy hook lines, edging towards the absurd as they reached their rundown apartment building.  It wasn’t much, but for the past couple of years it was home.

 

“Hungry?”  Sawamura asked as he dropped the duffel bag by the couch and shuffled towards their small kitchen.

 

“Yes!”  Bokuto answered enthusiastically while pulling Kuroo down onto the couch.

 

“Always.”  Kuroo agreed.

 

“I wasn’t asking you.”  Sawamura grumbled but he was all talk.  Sawamura was a bit of a slob but he could cook, which worked well because Kuroo actually really enjoyed cleaning and he couldn’t cook anything more complicated than microwave noodles.

 

Bokuto cuddled close to Kuroo, ignoring the fact that he well outweighed Kuroo and they were far too tall and broad to make cuddling look anything but kind of awkward and weird.  Kuroo ignored the fact that his leg was already falling asleep under the pressure of an 80 kilogram Bokuto Koutarou, and just wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, taking a deep breath and letting himself relax.

 

Kuroo had worried at first that he would have to hide his relationship even in his own apartment, but while Sawamura came from a small town he proved to have an open mind.  Sometimes Sawamura would even go and crash at one of his friends apartments to give Bokuto and Kuroo a night alone.

 

Bokuto and Kuroo untangled long enough to eat the yakiniku that Sawamura had grilled up, claiming he had just wanted grilled meat and vegetables and had not cooked it because he knew it was Bokuto’s favorite.  Kuroo and Bokuto knew better though, they were onto the giant soft teddy bear Sawamura really was.

 

Their movie later that night was interrupted by a service announcement implementing a curfew.  None of them had really planned to go out that night anyways so it mattered very little to them.

 

“That’s weird.”  Sawamura huffed as the movie came back on and all thoughts of curfews were wiped away.

 

The next day all travel was stopped.  The trains, buses, airports- everything.  Only those with emergencies were allowed to move from one city to the next by car.  They all sat around the tv, watching the reports describe what was happening in a really round about way.

 

“They aren’t actually giving us a reason why this is happening.”  Kuroo said as he held Bokuto a little closer.  “You said there was something going around Tokyo?”

 

“You’re thinking an outbreak of some kind?”  Sawamura questioned as he continued to type away on his phone.  Kuroo nodded and pulled out his own phone, letting Bokuto go so he could grab his off the coffee table.

 

“Hey, you’re not in Tokyo, are you?”  Kuroo asked as soon as Kenma picked up, almost relieved by the put upon sigh of his childhood friend.

 

“No, my grandfather insisted we come visit him yesterday and now we’re stuck here.”  Kenma’s grandfather lived in Akita and every time he felt like he was close to death he made the whole family visit him to say goodbye.  Kenma’s grandfather had been “close to death” ever since Kuroo has known him, and from what Kuroo had heard from Kenma’s parents he’s in rather healthy shape.

 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”  Kuroo couldn’t relax fully knowing the rest of his family and friends were in Tokyo.

 

“You’re worried.”  Kenma said softly, slowly as if it was a surprise to realize that.

 

“Suga sent me a video of the news.”  Sawamura moved to sit between Kuroo and Bokuto.  Sugawara was in a study abroad program in England.

 

“News from England?”  Bokuto asked, pressing closer.

 

“Hold on Kenma,” Kuroo leaned down to watch the video too.

 

“No, it’s footage from Japan.”  They watched the news segment.  Kuroo’s English was a little better than Sawamura and Bokuto’s but it was still difficult to catch everything.  Sugawara’s face came on the camera next.

 

“They said there’s an outbreak in Tokyo, something that’s causing extreme aggressive behavior.  They’ve quarantined the entire city, there’s mass panic because apparently the disease or whatever it is effects quickly.”  Sugawara looked slightly panicked, face pale and eyes too wide.  “Daichi-”

 

“It’s okay, we’re in Kyoto and there’s a curfew in effect, we won’t leave the apartment until everything's sorted.”  Sawamura quickly assured him.

 

“Okay, okay- just stay safe.”  They hung up so Sawamura could call his parents, standing up and moving to the kitchen as he did so.

 

“Did you hear any of that Kenma?”  Kuroo asked into his own phone, feeling like his heart was being slowly squeezed.

 

“Yeah.”  Kenma went quiet, they both did as Bokuto quickly assured his parents that he was safe and in Kyoto and no, he wouldn’t go outside and yes, he was with Sawamura and Kuroo.  Kuroo knew Bokuto’s parents trusted Sawamura the same way Kuroo’s own mother did, always talking about how responsible and what a lovely boy he was.

 

“Keep safe.”  Kuroo said softly.

 

“Yeah.  You too.”  They hung up and Kuroo called his mom.  He worried for her, she worked as a nurse at a doctors office, if there was an outbreak of some kind she might be in the thick of it.

 

“Tetsurou!  I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”  His mother's voice was rushed and quiet but there was clear relief in it.

 

“Sorry I was talking to Kenma.”  Kuroo felt bad almost instantly.

 

“Of course you’d call Kenma before your own mother,” There was a teasing note in her voice but it didn’t cover the worry at all.

 

“Mom, what’s going on?”  Kuroo asked and he could almost see his mother debating whether to tell him or not, but of course she went with the truth.  His mother had had him at an early age, and had raised him alone.  It meant they were close and she didn’t believe in lying to him to spare his feelings.

 

“Something is happening, I’m not really sure what it is but they are downplaying it in the news.”  His mother's voice was even quieter now.  “We have no idea how the disease is spreading but it's affecting more and more people by the hour.  Kuroo, please stay inside, and if you see someone that is acting strangely or is hurt- I know sweetheart, you were raised to help them but don’t do it this time.  There’s something wrong with people, please promise me.”

 

“I-I promise.”  Kuroo felt suddenly very small, but he wasn’t.  He was far away from his mother and expected to act like the adult he was.  “What about you?”

 

“I’m okay, I’m safe.  You keep safe too, okay?”  They spoke a little longer before they said their goodbyes, his mother making him promise once more before she would let him go.

 

A knock on the door made them all sit up straight.  Sawamura approached it carefully.

 

“Hey guys?  It’s Terushima.”  Terushima Yuuji lived two floors down by himself.  Sawamura opened the door and there was a lot more than just Terushima there.  “Um- we thought it’d be a great idea if we had a sleepover.”  Terushima held up a duffel bag and gave Sawamura his best imploring look.

 

“Okay, but first go grab what food you all have and bring it back here.”  Sawamura instructed, letting everyone drop their various bags before they went back to their rooms to grab the food.

 

There were ten of them total shoved into Kuroo and Sawamura’s apartment.  They exchanged the various information they had gathered, Kuroo quickly telling them what his mother had told him.  It seemed to really dawn on them right then that something serious was happening, but they needed to know.

 

“My dad said it was most likely a chemical weapon, an airborne attack.”  Shiori, their next door neighbor, spoke up.  Her dad was in the military and had been moved to Tokyo to enforce the quarantine.

 

Classes were cancelled until further notice.

 

Sugawara sent them more news reports, the same sort of things were happening in the United States.

 

No one's calls could get through to Tokyo.

 

Then cell phones stopped working all together.

 

The tv stations shut down next.

 

Kuroo had been lost and confused, it had only been two days since Bokuto arrived.

 

They had moved the couch and coffee table, everyone choosing to crash together on the living room floor.  It was really too small of a space but no one complained about elbows in their sides or feet touching their own as they slept.

 

Sunday night the screams started.

 

“We have to help them.”  Misaki whispered as they all scrambled towards the balcony that first night.  A man was running down the empty street, too far away to make out his features but two- no three, then four people were running after him.

 

“My mom said…” Kuroo couldn’t finish it, his body wanted to run out there and help him but he was so scared, more scared than he could ever remember feeling.

 

“We can’t just-” Misaki stopped as the man was tackled to the ground by a fifth person before being literally torn apart.  

 

Someone gagged from behind Kuroo, running towards the bathroom.

 

“What the fuck is happening, what the fuck, what the fuck-” Kaito was pulling at his hair, his glasses tilted on his pale face.

 

“Get off the balcony, get away from the windows.”  Sawamura hissed, yanking people back inside before closing the door carefully.

 

“Fuck- what was that- what- they were-” Shiori tried to comfort Kaito, tried to get him to loosen his death grip on his own hair but he just kept repeating himself, confused fractured sentences.

 

“Were they eating him?”  Bokuto’s question echoed almost too loudly in the room.  Everyone turned their eyes to him, he looked calm at first glance but he was far too pale and Kuroo could see the whites all around his eyes.

 

“They were- they were!”  Kaito yelled but Sawamura stepped closer and pressed his hand against Kaito’s mouth, forcing the shorter man to look at him.

 

“We need to be quiet.”  Sawamura spoke softly and carefully.  Kaito nodded back as if it was instinctual.  “We can’t risk panicking or we’ll never survive whatever is happening.  Are you okay?”  Kaito nodded again and Sawamura released him, glancing around at all the terrified faces of the various 20 year olds packed into the tiny room.

 

“Let’s go to the living room.”  Shiori offered and Sawamura nodded in agreement as they all shuffled almost soundlessly out of the room, as if even their footsteps had to be quiet.

 

“Okay, so I think we just got a first hand account of what has been happening in Tokyo, which means that whatever it was has spread.”  Sawamura stood ramrod straight and if Kuroo hadn’t spent the past three years living with him, he would have thought Sawamura was unaffected.  Kuroo knew he wasn’t unmoved by what had just happened, but he knew if he started panicking then everyone would too.  That’s what happened when you were the defacto leader of a group.

 

“It means the quarantine failed and Kyoto is no longer a safe place to be, especially not where we are in the center of the city.”  Shiori agreed, another voice of reason that the group desperately needed.

 

“Before the phones went dead I talked to my friend Asahi who was in Miyagi, they were setting up a safe zone close to the coast.”  Sawamura rubbed at his day old stubble.

 

“Miyagi is a long walk from here.”  Terushima pointed out but there was a certain set to his shoulders that said he’d walk it if need be.

 

“I have a van, it’d be a tight fit but all of us could fit in there.”  Misaki offered, her voice faint as she braided a strand of her long hair, pulled it apart, and then braided it again like a nervous tick she couldn’t help but perform.

 

“The roads are shut down, if the military is patrolling them we could be sent right back here.”  Shiori shook her head before looking over at Sawamura.

 

“If they are setting up a safe zone by the coast in Miyagi then they might be setting up more areas like that near the coast.”  Kuroo spoke up, his voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears.  He realized his throat was intensely dry but cleared his throat anyways.  “Wasn’t one of you warned to stay off the roads anyways?”

 

“So we head towards the coast?  Make our way up to Miyagi?”  Terushima asked and Kuroo suddenly remembered the blonde haired man was also from Miyagi, that Sawamura and him had briefly known each other through volleyball in high school.  Terushima was probably eager to get back to his friends and family, to make sure they were alright.  Kuroo wanted to do the same but his mother was in Tokyo, which they could not go to under any circumstance.

 

“We’d have to avoid any major cities.”  Sawamura said, his soft eyes landing on Kuroo and then Bokuto.

 

There was more screaming from outside.

 

“We should leave in the morning.”  Sawamura said quickly, as if to distract them all from the horror their lives had suddenly become.

 

“First light?”  Someone asked but Sawamura was shaking his head.

 

“Dusk and dawn have poor visibility, we’ll wait until the sun is higher in the sky.  Pack light, grab as much food that won’t expire as you can.  Pack with the thought that we won’t be coming back here.”  Sawamura offered and they all nodded.

 

“I don’t think it’s safe for the few people who live in the next building to go back to their rooms to get stuff.”  Shiori spoke up hesitantly.

 

“My closet is open,” Kuroo offered and the people who lived in their building nodded in agreement.

 

“We will go in pairs.  Pack quickly and do it quietly.”  Sawamura rubbed a hand down his face.

 

“Hey Daichi,” Terushima sidled up to Sawamura with half his usual slimeball charm.  Sawamura gave him a weak smile.

 

“I’ll come with you.”  Sawamura shook his head in fake exasperation.

 

“I will name my first born after you.”  Terushima promised as they walked to the front door, putting on their shoes and pressing their ears against the door to make sure it was clear.

 

Only two other people besides Sawamura and Terushima left, the rest making do with what they had already packed or going through Sawamura and Kuroo’s things.  Kuroo packed for Sawamura, grabbing things he knew the other man liked the most.

 

Everyone gathered back in the living room, exhausted but too terrified to sleep.  Sawamura rolled over onto his stomach, propping his chin up on his crossed arms and he looked around the room before giving Kuroo an exasperated look.

 

“Hey Kuroo?”  Kuroo raised his eyebrows in answer, wondering what Sawamura was up to now.  “Tell me, how do you get your hair to look like that?”  Kuroo almost laughed.  Sawamura didn’t understand Kuroo and Bokuto’s inside joke anymore than anyone else who wasn’t Kuroo or Bokuto did, but he recognized that the people around them needed a little hope.

 

Bokuto told his story after Kuroo and people looked a little confused but slightly more relaxed, a couple even drifting off to sleep.  Kuroo looked over to Sawamura only to see Terushima move closer to the old crow captain, pressing his face into Sawamura’s broad back.  Sawamura, for his part, handled it with a soft roll of his eyes but didn’t complain.

 

Kuroo rolled himself over into Bokuto’s space, no longer caring about how they looked to others, no longer caring about anyone else's comfort or approval.  He needed the comfort of Bokuto’s large, solid frame right then and Bokuto was only all too willing to help.

 

It was the last comfortable night they had for months to come.

 

Kaito was attacked before they even made it a block away from the apartments.  His screams of pain brought more of the- things.  Kuroo couldn’t think of a better name for them because they no longer acted anything like a human.  Another of their group was taken down while trying to help Kaito, dead before anyone of them could even step to help.

 

They lost a third member before making it out of Kyoto.

 

Kuroo didn’t remember much of the attacks, was happy that his brain had somehow blocked it out.  He knew it was traumatizing, horrible and disgusting in a way that meant he’d never be able to watch another horror movie or crime show again.

 

It’s days of tiptoeing around a city and then weeks of trudging through woods, skirting around towns.  Terror filled nights and exhausting days.

 

Whenever they stop they press close together, personal space long forgotten.  Bokuto always puts himself behind Kuroo, curling around him as if he wanted to bury Kuroo in himself.  None of them speak very often, except for Sawamura and Shiori who have taken to rallying their small group to get up each day and continue moving.

 

Another attack brings their group down to six.  Kuroo, Bokuto, Sawamura, Terushima, Shiori, and Misaki.  Three nights later Misaki starts vomiting and can’t seem to stop.  It’s Shiori who see’s the bite on Misaki’s side.  They wait and wait, hoping she will get better, knowing she won’t.  None of them have it in them to finish what the bites started.

 

Sawamura uses his bat when Misaki succumbs fully to the infection, foaming at the mouth and lashing out at all of them.

 

They walk for hours in no particular direction until Sawamura stumbles and falls to his knees.  It’s Terushima who presses close to him, tosses Sawamura’s arm around his shoulder and forces the large man to walk with him.

 

“How do you get your hair to stay that way?”  Bokuto whispers in Kuroo’s ear one night, pressed close behind him.  Kuroo can’t smile but he tightens his hold on Bokuto’s arms just a little bit.

 

“It’s a funny story that starts with a lamp, this is not ordinary lamp of course-”

 

“Of course.”  Bokuto buries his face in Kuroo’s neck as Kuroo continues his tale.

 

The next day Shiori is missing.  Sawamura stands with his hand pressed over his mouth, looking like he wants to shout out her name but knowing he can’t.  They wait and wait and wait, but they know she isn’t coming back.  Several days prior they had passed close to a sharp cliff that plunged down to the ground far below.  Shiori had stared at that cliff until Terushima had pulled her away.

 

“I’m sorry.”  Sawamura turned to Terushima, looking as if he was taking full blame for everything horrible that has happened up to that point.  “Maybe we should have stayed back at the apartment?”  Shiori had been a close friend to Terushima, to all of them but she had been a sort of surrogate mom to Terushima, teaching him how to use the washer and dryer, how to properly make rice, how to fix their buildings horrible heating system.

 

Terushima just stepped close to Sawamura, wrapping his arms around the other man and letting him cry into his shoulder.  No one blamed Sawamura, but he would never let it go.

 

Days blended into weeks.  The air became crisp, the nights turned colder.  Sawamura began to cough.

 

“Daichi.” They had all dropped any sense of formalities.

 

“I’m fine, really.”

 

He wasn’t.  The cough turned into long fits, his naturally tan skin turned pallid, his eyes sunken and surrounded by dark looking bruises.  They had to stop more frequently because it became harder for Sawamura to breath.

 

“They could have medicine.”  Kuroo argued as they all crouched down in the thick line of trees.  There was a road close to them and on the other side of that road a petrol station that sometimes existed between two towns, stuck out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere.

 

“Too dangerous.”  Sawamura said but it was weak, he could barely hold himself up.  He was covered in sweat and shivered constantly, though he never complained about being hot or cold.

 

“They could have food or water.”  Terushima tried from a different angle.  Sawamura wouldn’t let them risk themselves for him, but they needed more supplies, they were almost out but the last time they had tried to go into a store they had lost people in their group.

 

“Dangerous.”  Sawamura gasped out, his usually smooth tone ragged and painful sounding.  He bent over, shaking with coughs he tried not to let out.  Terushima rubbed his back.

 

“You’re really too weak to tell us differently.”  Terushima said once the coughing fit had waned off.  Sawamura could give a real mean eye even when he was at death’s door.

 

“Kou and I will go together, Yuuji will stay with you.”  Kuroo said, looking over at Bokuto who nodded in agreement.  Bokuto had begun to talk less and less and it was making Kuroo worry more and more.

 

“Together.”  Sawamura argued.

 

“You’re too weak to fight if there’s something in there.”  Kuroo protested.

 

“You three.”  Sawamura’s breath rattled in his chest, wet sounding which Kuroo knew wasn’t a good thing.  Kuroo also knew that Sawamura was most likely beyond any medicine that a petrol station would have.

 

“I’m not leaving you alone, just go, he can’t stop you anyways.”  Terushima grumbled out, continuing to rub Sawamura’s back despite his harsh tone.

 

“Careful.”  Sawamura rasped quietly.  Kuroo and Bokuto nodded before making their way over to the petrol station.

 

Kuroo nearly cried when they found that it was not only empty of anything that wanted to kill them but completely stocked.  Bokuto and Kuroo made quick work of dragging Sawamura into the building, setting him up in the backroom where they could make a quick getaway by the back door if anything came in through the front.

 

They grabbed armfuls of supplies, bringing it all to the backroom and helping themselves to the bottled waters and packaged junk food.  They gave Sawamura cold medicine, despite the fact that they knew it would have very little to no effect on him except maybe to help him sleep a little better.  None of them had been doing much sleeping since they left Kyoto.

 

They stayed there for days as Sawamura’s health steadily declined.  He was delirious, begging them to leave him until Terushima carefully carded his fingers through his short hair, and he fell into a fitful sleep.

 

“How long have you been in love with him?”  Kuroo asked, holding Bokuto close as the other man curled up against his chest, fingers curling into Kuroo’s old sweater.

 

“You’ve seen him in his volleyball kit.”  Terushima tried to smile through the tears but it fell short.  “I guess I realized when he brought by ramen during finals.”

 

“Took you a while.”  Kuroo gave a small grin, just a twitch of his lips really.

 

“He snuck in there.”  Kuroo had met Terushima during his second year of university work, the younger man had stumbled drunk onto their door and pounded, claiming that it was his room.  Neither Sawamura nor Kuroo were aware that Terushima lived two floors down at the time, but Sawamura had recognized the blonde haired man and ushered him into their apartment, settling him on the couch and making sure he drank plenty of water before he passed out.  After that Terushima showed up sporadically to their apartment, never with any warning, sometimes drunk or holding take out.

 

Kuroo wasn’t sure if Sawamura felt the same towards Terushima, or even if Sawamura was into men at all.  He had let Terushima curl up close every night since they left Kyoto, but they all kind of piled together when they bunkered down for the night.

 

Kuroo was woken by Sawamura’s heavy coughing, listening as it continued on until Sawamura sounded like he was dry heaving.  Bokuto curled closer, hand reaching out to grab the sleeve of Sawamura’s jumper, as if that little physical touch would keep him with them.  Kuroo buried his face into Bokuto's beanie clad head, which had lost it's grafity defining lift months ago.

 

Honestly Kuroo wasn’t sure what they would do if Sawamura died, he hadn’t let himself think of it.  He was the solid ground beneath their feet, the only reason they had made it this far.

 

Kuroo didn’t have much time to think about it as the door flew open and people surged into the small backroom.  Kuroo thought they were all dead for sure before his brain caught up with the situation.

 

“Don’t shoot!”  Bokuto shouted, voice raspy as he pushed himself in front of not only Kuroo but Sawamura and Terushima too.

 

“You’ve got one of them with you?”  A surprisingly soft voice asked, guns and lights pointed at their faces so they couldn’t make out much more than vague shapes.

 

“No no, he’s just sick, it was a cold but we didn’t have any medicine so- you can check him!  He’s just sick!”  Terushima sounded close to tears, his usual resilience gone.

 

“Move aside.”  A strong voice ordered and Bokuto hesitated before moving.  Terushima moved reluctantly.  A tall man stepped closer, pointing the flashlight down at Sawamura who flinched and turned his head to start coughing once more.  “Holy- what’s his name?”

 

“S-Sawamura Daichi.”  Bokuto answered after a long moment of silence.

 

“Can’t fucking believe it, Shimada it’s Karasuno’s old captain.”  The man lowered his gun before crouching down to Sawamura, pressing a hand against his face.  “The kids burning up, we need to move now.”

 

“All of them?”  A feminine voice asked from the back.

 

“Yeah, they are just a bunch of kids, get them safe.”  The guy was big and broad, he turned towards Kuroo and the others.  “Come on, unless you’d rather stay here?”

 

They were loaded into a jeep, Sawamura carried carefully into the back.  Bokuto sat next to Kuroo, pressed close against his side as they both stared down at Sawamura.  Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder what they would have done to them if they hadn’t recognized Sawamura, and how their old friend had saved their lives once again and wasn’t even lucid enough to know it.

 

“Kou, how did your hair get like that?”  Kuroo asked, his voice barely heard above the roar of the engine, his mouth close to Bokuto’s ear.  Bokuto’s hair was covered by a beanie but he turned to look at Kuroo, eyes almost too big for his face as a small hopeful little smile illuminated his features.

 

“When I was really little I lived in a village surrounded by a deep forest, and in that forest lived an ancient spirit who liked to take the shape of an owl.”  Bokuto rested his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, leg stretching out until his foot touched Sawamura’s leg, reaching his right hand the short distance to grab onto the hem of Terushima’s sweater.

 

The joke had lasted through high school and years of college, it had helped them through long periods of being separated by miles and miles.  It had seen them through good times and bad, and now it was there during the end of the world.


End file.
